Chapter V: The Interpretation of Andamanese Customs and Beliefs: Ceremonial (5)

The occasions on which this style of painting is used or forbidden are thus all satisfactorily explained by our hypothesis. It remains to consider the nature of the painting itself, and how far it is an appropriate means of expression. To do this we must discuss very briefly some of the processes of symbolic thought of the Andamanese. Conditions of well-being (both individual and social) are associated in the minds of the Andamanese with fine weather, both directly (through physiological action) and indirectly (through the effect of fine weather on the social life). Hence Tomo, who, as we shall see in the next chapter, is a personification of fine weather, is a being who is connected with goodness and happiness. With fine weather, and therefore with individual and social well-being, the Andamanese associate brightness and whiteness (for which they have only one word) and any bright or light colour. The association of light and dark with euphoric and dysphoric conditions respectively has a psycho-physical basis, for it seems to be universal in human nature. Now the clay that the Andamanese call to̱l-odu is the whitest substance they know, and is for this reason fitted to be symbolical of conditions of well-being. Fine weather is associated, in the minds of the Andamanese with honey, because in the season of fine weather honey is plentiful, and is also associated for a similar reason with snakes. Sweetness itself is universally associated with pleasant things, again through a psycho-physical link. The Andamanese believe in a special connection between honey and a species of large snake called wara-ǰobo or or-čubi [179], so that this snake comes to be representative of fine weather and sweetness and therefore generally of states of well-being. Now, throughout the Great Andaman the pattern in which white clay is painted on the body is called after this snake, and the zig-zags of which the pattern is composed may be supposed to be representative of the snake itself. When, therefore, a man paints himself with white clay in a pattern which he regards as representing the snake wara-ǰobo, it is evident that the painting is meant to express a condition of well-being, with which the snake itself, and whiteness, are, by a number of links, closely associated. This is not all, however. The Andamanese, we may not doubt, derive from the painted pattern an esthetic pleasure due to its rhythmical character, its shape as an arrangement of lines and spaces. Further it provides the pleasure that we obtain from a thing elegantly and skilfully made, and this explains why so much care is taken in the making of the pattern. This pleasure at what we may call the beauty of the pattern heightens the effect produced by its symbolic references. The real value of the pattern, its pleasure-giving quality, is transferred to the man on whose body it is executed. He himself is pleased with it, proud of it, and so becomes pleased with and proud of himself, for the pattern by being imprinted on his body becomes part of him. The sense of self attaches to it, as with us the sense of self attaches to our clothes.

It would be interesting to carry the analysis of the mental processes involved in all this a stage or two further, but enough has been said, I hope, to show that the nature of the painting with clay is appropriate to its use as marking or expressing value.

Patterns are sometimes painted with this same white clay on the face alone, such patterns being built up either of the zig-zags of the snake pattern, or of rhythmically arranged series of short lines. The use of such paintings is regulated by a sort of etiquette. By so having his face decorated a man expresses that he is pleased with himself, and obviously there are occasions on which it is appropriate and others on which it is inappropriate that he should feel thus. A man who has been successful in the day’s hunting, for example, is quite justified in having his face ornamented in this way, and it is on such occasions as this that the custom is observed.

When a man is painted for a dance, or on any other ceremonial occasion, with white clay, he is also painted at the same time with red paint. In these instances we must suppose that the red paint serves the same purpose as the pattern of white clay with which it is combined, namely to make the decorated person pleasantly aware of his or her social value. Red paint is also used, however, in sickness, and on other occasions, as affording protection against evil, particularly evil from the spirit-world.

This double use of red paint is to be explained by reference to the colour symbolism of the Andaman Islanders. For them the colour red is pre-eminently the colour of blood and of fire. There is ample evidence of this which it is perhaps not necessary to state. Now blood is identified with the warmth of the body and with life; the blood and the fat are sometimes spoken of as the two vital principles. Fire, as I have already shown, is taken as a symbol of activity and of mental excitement. Thus the colour comes to be associated in the minds of the Andamanese with all euphoric conditions, with excitement, vitality, mental and bodily activity, and with energy or force in general. It is possible that this symbolism, which seems to be much the same in all divisions of mankind, has a psycho-physical basis in the stimulating dynamogenic power of sensations of redness.

When a person is sick he is in need of vitality, of energy, and so his body is daubed with the red paint that is a symbol of the things that he needs, and by a simple mental process he comes to believe that by applying the paint to his body he increases his energy and vitality, and so helps himself to get rid of the sickness. At a dance, or on other ceremonial occasions, it is required that the individual shall have a sense of his own value, and for this he must experience that sense of personal force and vitality that is produced, as we have seen, by the action of the dance. This effect is reinforced by the use of the red paint which is the symbol of that condition of energy and vitality that it is (for some special reason) necessary for him to feel. As the value of the individual depends upon his strength or force, the red paint is thus a suitable means of expressing the value of him on whose body it is painted, and really expresses, though by different means, exactly the same thing as the pattern of white clay with which it is combined.

We are now in a position to understand the use of white clay and red paint in the purification of a homicide. This takes place at the end of a period of isolation, during which the man is entirely cut off from the social life, and lives in a condition of supposed extreme danger on account of the blood that he has shed. During this time he may not use his hands to touch food, and at the end his hands are purified by the application to them of red paint and white clay. It is clearly because these two substances are both of them in different ways symbols of conditions of well-being that magical virtue is ascribed to their use in this instance. It is perhaps worth while to recall that both red ochre and white clay are sometimes given internally as remedies against sickness.

For the sake of the argument it has been necessary to separate the two motives underlying the use of personal ornament, the desire for protection and the desire for display. But we now see that these two motives are very intimately related and are really both involved in every kind of ornament. All ornament in some way marks the relation of the individual to the society and to that force or power in the society to which he owes his well-being and happiness. When painting or ornament is used to give protection, it is, as we have seen, the protective power of the society itself that is appealed to, and what is expressed is the dependence of the individual on the society. When ornament or paint is used for display it is again the dependence on the society that is expressed, though in a different way and on occasions of a different kind. We have seen that scarification is also a means of marking the dependence of the individual on the society, and it is very important to note that the Andamanese sometimes explain it as due to the desire for display and sometimes to the need of protection (enabling the child to grow strong and so avoid the dangers of sickness), showing very clearly that there is some intimate connection between these two motives, or at any rate that one and the same method of ornamentation can satisfy both. There is the further example of red paint, which is combined with the pattern of white clay for purposes of display, and is also constantly used in many ways as affording protection.

We are thus brought to the final conclusion that the scarification and painting of the body and the wearing of most if not all of the customary ornaments are rites which have the function of marking the fact that the individual is in a particular permanent or temporary relation to that power in the society and in all things that affect the social life, the notion of which we have seen to underlie so much of the Andaman ceremonial.

The scarification of a boy or girl leaves permanent marks of the permanent relation between the adult and the society. By means of it and the initiation ceremonies that follow or accompany it, and of which it may really be considered to be a part, the society gives the individual his social value, of which the scars remain as a visible sign for him to be proud of, and at the same time endows him with the power to avoid the dangers with which his life is beset.

The paintings of clay after food mark the temporary relation between the individual and the power present in the food he has eaten. It is chiefly thought of by the natives themselves as protective, as we have seen, but it also gives an opportunity for the exercise of personal vanity, for much care is taken in the designing and execution of the pattern, which therefore affords the painted individual much the same sort of satisfaction as the snake pattern of white clay. It calls his attention to his own appearance, and makes him feel pleased or satisfied with himself, conscious of his own personal value. A condition of unity and harmony is produced in the community by a feast as well as by a dance, and in each instance that harmony is expressed by the painting of every member with the same material in a similar design. The relation of the individual to the society is made visible on his body. By means of the paintings after food the society not only protects itself from danger but also rejoices in the well-being that is produced by a supply of relished food. Inversely it can now also be shown that the painting of white clay and red paint worn at a dance and after marriage and initiation is not only a means of display but is also protective. Both red paint and white clay are used to give protection in sickness, and they are similarly used in the purification of the hands of a homicide. Moreover we have seen, in reference to the word ot-kimil, that the dance is a condition of danger by reason of the contact it involves between the individual and the power of the society. The few days following an initiation ceremony are definitely believed to be a period of danger for the initiate, and during this time the pattern of white clay and red paint must not be washed off but must be allowed to wear off. By the time the last traces of the pattern have disappeared the danger is considered to be over. There is evidence that the first few days of marriage are regarded as a period of danger. It would seem that the natives do attribute to the painting with white clay and red paint some power of protection, but this is hidden under the importance of such painting as a means of display.

Of the various ornaments that are worn on the body some would seem to be worn almost solely for purposes of display, because they are pleasing to the eye. Such are the necklaces and other ornaments of small shells. It would seem that the same motive is also responsible for the use of the yellow skin of the Dendrobium of which the Andamanese are so fond. The ornaments of netting and shell seem to be worn primarily for display, but it is quite possible that some protective power is attributed to them, as to the paintings of white clay with which they are regularly worn. The belts of Pandanus leaf that are worn by women are a mark of the sex, and the style of belt worn differs with the social status of the woman. They thus serve to exhibit the special social value of the woman in so far as it depends upon her sex and her social status, but I believe that the Andamanese attribute to the belt and to the apron of leaves worn with it a power of protection against the special dangers to which women are believed to be subject. This is suggested by the use of the Pandanus leaf in the ceremony at a girl’s first menstruation [180]. I failed to discover any special ideas connected with the ornaments of Pandanus leaf that are sometimes worn by both men and women at dances. The ornaments that are worn primarily for their protective power are those made of human and animal bones and those of pieces of canes or of fibres of Hibiscus or Ficus. These are always made decorative by the addition of shells and yellow Dendrobium skin, and therefore besides their primary function also serve as means of display.

It is clear then that in the various methods of ornamenting the body the two chief motives that we have considered are so combined that they can hardly be estimated separately, and it is this mingling of motives that has led us to the final understanding of the meaning and social function of bodily ornament. Each of the different kinds of ornament serves to make manifest the existence of some special relation between the individual and the society, and therefore of some special relation between him and that system of powers on which the welfare of the society and of the individual depends. One of the most important aspects of the relation of the individual to the society is his dependence upon it for his safety and well-being and this is revealed in all painting and ornament worn for protection. But the society not only protects the individual from danger; it is the direct source of his well-being; and this makes itself felt in the customary regulation by which the use of the more important ornaments used for display is confined to occasions on which it is quite clear that his happiness is directly due to the society, such as a dance or feast. Thus the customs relating to the ornamentation of the body are of the kind that I have here called ceremonial. They are means by which the society exercises on appropriate occasions some of the important social sentiments, thereby maintaining them at the necessary degree of energy required to maintain the social cohesion.

To complete the discussion of ornament in general it is necessary to refer very briefly to the ornamentation of objects such as bows, canoes and baskets. Such ornamentation consists of (1) incised patterns (on bows, etc.), which may be compared with the scarification of the body, (2) painting with red paint and white clay (bows, canoes, skulls, etc.), or with prepared wax (Nautilus shell cups, etc.), (3) patterns made with the yellow skin of the Dendrobium (baskets, etc.), and (4) shells attached by thread (baskets, baby-sling, etc.). The important point to note is that the decoration applied to utensils is of the same character throughout as that which, when applied to the body, has been shown to be an expression of the social value of the person. Thus the pattern painted on a canoe with white clay and red paint is the same as that on the body of a dancer. It would seem, therefore, that the ornamentation of utensils is a means of expressing or marking the social value of the decorated object, and it might even be held that the application of ornament to utensils is really a matter of ceremonial. Just as a newly married man is painted with the snake pattern which wears off and is not renewed, so a new canoe or a new South Andaman bow is painted with the same pattern as soon as it is finished, and after this pattern wears off it is not renewed. It is the act of bringing a new canoe or bow into use that is the occasion of the ceremonial expression of its value, if we may so regard the painting. A new relation is established between the society and an object, which thereby acquires a special social value, just as a youth acquires a special new social value at the conclusion of one of the initiation ceremonies. This example is sufficient to show that at least there is nothing in the ornamentation of utensils that conflicts with the explanation of bodily ornament given in this chapter [181].

It is time to bring the argument to a conclusion. It should now, I hope, be evident that the ceremonial customs of the Andaman Islands form a closely connected system, and that we cannot understand their meaning if we only consider each one by itself, but must study the whole system to arrive at an interpretation. This in itself I regard as a most important conclusion, for it justifies the contention that we must substitute for the old method of dealing with the customs of primitive people,—the comparative method by which isolated customs from different social types were brought together and conclusions drawn from their similarity,—a new method by which all the institutions of one society or social type are studied together so as to exhibit their intimate relations as parts of an organic system.

I have tried to show that the ceremonial customs are the means by which the society acts upon its individual members and keeps alive in their minds a certain system of sentiments. Without the ceremonial those sentiments would not exist, and without them the social organisation in its actual form could not exist. There is great difficulty, however, in finding a suitable method of describing these sentiments. In attempting to put into precise words the vague feelings of the Andaman Islander there is always the danger that we may attribute to him conceptions that he does not possess. For he is not himself capable of thinking about his own sentiments.

In the attempt to exhibit the meaning of the ceremonial I have shown that it implies a complex system of beliefs about what I have called power, and have stated those beliefs in more or less precise terms. But the Andaman Islander is of course quite incapable of making similar statements or even of understanding them. In his consciousness appear only the very vaguest conceptions, such as those associated with the word kimil or with odours. We, in order to understand his customs must substitute for such vague notions others capable of precise statement, must formulate in words the beliefs that are revealed in his actions, but we must be careful not to fall into the error of attributing to him the conceptions by which we make clear to ourselves his indefinite sentiments and notions and the ceremonies in which they are expressed.

With this qualification, then, the ceremonial of the Andaman Islands may be said to involve the assumption of a power of a peculiar kind, and we have been able to formulate certain principles which, although the native is quite incapable of stating them as principles, are revealed in the ceremonial. This power, though in itself neither good nor evil, is the source of all good and all evil in human life. It is present in the society itself and in everything that can affect in important ways the social life. All occasions of special contact with it are dangerous, i.e., are subject to ritual precautions.

It should already, from the course of the argument, be plain that this power or force, the interaction of whose different manifestations constitutes the process of social life, is not imaginary, is not even something the existence of which is surmised as the result of intellectual processes, but is real, an object of actual experience. It is, in a few words, the moral power of the society acting upon the individual directly or indirectly and felt by him in innumerable ways throughout the whole course of his life [182].

One of the most important ways in which the individual experiences the moral force of the society of which he is a member is through the feeling of moral obligation, which gives him the experience of a power compelling him to subordinate his egoistic desires to the demands of social custom. The individual feels this force acting upon him both from outside and from inside himself. For he recognizes that it is the society with its traditions and customs that constrains him through the force of public opinion, and yet the conflict between customary duty and selfish inclination takes place in his own mind and is experienced as the clash of antagonistic mental forces. The moral sense within impels towards the same end as the social opinion without.

This force of moral obligation is felt not only in relation to right and wrong conduct towards other persons, but is also felt in all ritual, whether negative or positive.

The moral force of the society is also felt, in a quite different way, in all states of intense collective emotion, of which the dance affords a good example. I have shown how in the dance the individual feels the society acting upon him, constraining him to join in the common activity and regulate his actions to conform with those of others, and, when he so acts in harmony with them, giving him the experience of a great increase of his own personal force or energy. All ceremonies in which the whole community takes part give the individual the experience of the moral force of the society acting upon him in somewhat the same way as the dance.

Thus in these and other ways the individual does experience the action of the society upon himself as a sort of force, not however as a physical force, but as a moral force, acting directly in his own mind and yet clearly felt as something outside his own self, and with which that self may be in conflict.

How is it, then, that this force comes to be projected into the world of nature? The answer to that question, which can only be very briefly indicated here, is to be found in the conclusions at which we have arrived with regard to social values. The moral force of the society is experienced by the individual not only directly but also as acting upon him indirectly through every object that has social value. The best example of this process is found in the things used for food. Thus, in the Andamans, food is very closely connected with the feeling of moral obligation, as we have seen. Further, food is one of the principal sources of those alternations of social euphoria and dysphoria in which, through the action of the collective emotion, the individual experiences the action of the society upon his own well-being. When food is plentiful happiness spreads through the community and the time is spent in dancing and feasting so that the individual feels a great increase in his own personal force coming to him from the society or from the food. On the other hand, when food is scarce and hunting unsuccessful the community feels itself thwarted and restrained and experiences a sense of weakness, which collective feeling has for its immediate object the food the lack of which is its origin.

Similarly with the phenomena of the weather and all other objects that have social value, they are all associated in the mind of the individual with his experience of the action of the society upon himself, so that the moral force of the society is actually felt as acting through them.

But it is really through the ceremonial that this is mainly brought about. It is in the initiation ceremonies that the moral force of the society acting through foods is chiefly felt, and the same experience is repeated in a less intense form in the rite of painting the body after food. It is similarly through the protective use of the materials used for weapons and through the various ritual prohibitions connected with them that the moral force of the society acting through them is chiefly felt. The argument has been that it is by means of the ceremonial that the individual is made to feel the social value of the various things with which the ceremonial is concerned. Putting this in other words we can now define the ceremonial as the means by which the individual is made to feel the moral force of the society acting upon him either directly, or in some instances indirectly through those things that have important effects on the social life. By its action upon the individual the ceremonial develops and maintains in existence in his mind an organised system of dispositions by which the social life, in the particular form it takes in the Andamans, is made possible, using for the purpose of maintaining the social cohesion all the instinctive tendencies of human nature, modifying and combining them according to its needs.

As an example of such modification of primary instincts let us briefly consider that of fear, to which, from the time of Petronius [183] to the present day, so much importance has been attributed in relation to the origin of religion. In childhood any fear of danger makes the child run to its mother or father for protection, and thus the instinct of fear becomes an important component of that feeling of dependence that the child has towards its parents. The primitive society uses the fear instinct in much the same way. The Andaman Islander, through the ceremonies and customs of his people, is made to feel that he is in a world full of unseen dangers,—dangers from the foods he eats, from the sea, the weather, the forest and its animals, but above all from the spirits of the dead,—which can only be avoided by the help of the society and by conformity with social custom. As men press close to one another in danger, the belief in and fear of the spirit-world make the Andaman Islander cling more firmly to his fellows, and make him feel more intensely his own dependence on the society to which he belongs, just as the fear of danger makes the child feel its dependence upon its parents. So the belief in the spirit-world serves directly to increase the cohesion of the society through its action on the mind of the individual. An important law of sociology is that the solidarity of a group is increased when the group as a whole finds itself opposed to some other group; so, enmity between two tribes or nations increases the solidarity of each; and so also, the antagonism between the society of the living and the world of the dead increases the solidarity of the former.

The argument is now concluded. I have examined, as fully as space would permit, all the more important features of the Andaman ceremonial, and have tried to show what part they play in the social life of the Andamans. At the end of our enquiry it is well to ask if any definition of ceremonial can be given more exact than the vague one with which we started. The chapter has shown that what I have denoted as ceremonial consists of (1) collective actions, (2) required by custom, (3) performed on occasions of changes in the course of social life, and (4) expressing the collective sentiments relating to such social change. By the first part of the definition we exclude the magical practices of the medicine-men, which however it has been convenient to consider in connection with the ceremonial, as it has helped us to understand some of the ideas underlying both magic and ceremonial. If we are not to exclude the rite of painting after eating food we must regard the obtaining of a good supply of food as being a change in the course of social life even though it occurs very frequently, and even every day for weeks together. It must be admitted, however, that the definition does not give us any very clear dividing line between ceremonial and art, play, or morals. The painting of the body with white clay after marriage or initiation must, I think, be regarded as ceremonial, while the painting of a new bow or canoe with the same clay in the same pattern should perhaps more conveniently be called art. But what are we to say of the painting worn at a dance or the face-painting that a man occasionally wears when there is no special reason? The dance at the end of mourning is clearly a ceremony, but can we say the same of the ordinary dance after a successful hunt? And if it be not ceremonial, shall we call it art or play? When friends are required to give presents to a newly-married couple are we to call this obligation one of ceremonial, of etiquette or of morals? These and similar questions are perhaps incapable of a satisfactory answer, nor does it seem necessary to attempt to find one. Those elements of culture that we now differentiate and call by different names were, in primitive societies, undifferentiated and not clearly to be distinguished from one another, and a striving after too great a precision of definition in dealing with such a culture as that of the Andamans leads, I think, not to a clearer understanding, but to the opposite. The main thing is to keep close to the facts. In this chapter I have examined a number of facts which are plainly related and the question of how we are to label them is one that may well be left till such time as we shall have acquired a more profound insight into the nature of culture in general and the complex forces involved in its existence and growth. For the present, some vagueness in our provisional classifications need not greatly perturb us.